Ironside: The Ruthledge Diamond
by Mounty Swiss
Summary: Guarding the Ruthledge diamond should be no problem at all, should it? You bet! Set Season 1 Ironside
1. Chapter 1

**Ironside: The Ruthledge Diamond****  
><strong>(Season 1)

Guarding the Ruthledge diamond should be no problem at all, should it?  
>You bet!<p>

Disclaimer: I don't own Ironside and his people.

_Author's note: As I declared, my English skills are far too bad to write comedies. But I couldn't help writing this one, sorry!__  
><em>  
>Saturday<br>The ballroom of the Ruthledge mansion was lit festively. The candelabras were electric now, but everything else seemed to belong to another century. On the long tables covered with the finest linen, exquisite dishes were ready, arranged in a most appetizing way. Naturally, the wines matched the taste of the most elderly, distinguished gentlemen who were present.  
>Everybody who was anybody had gathered here tonight. Mrs. Cynthia Ruthledge, born in 1875 and therefore 92 years old now, did not give a ball very often anymore. But when she did, it was like time-travelling seventy years back: Back to a time when the ladies had no other duty than to be beautiful and charming, and when the gentlemen were still gentlemen.<br>Today was Cynthia's granddaughter Belinda's 25th birthday, and it was celebrated like 25th birthdays had been celebrated since 1900, since Cynthia's own 25th birthday.

Sitting at a table in a corner of the ballroom, Mrs. DeWitte and Mrs. Rehnquist, both in their seventies, were enjoying themselves. Mrs. DeWitte took a sip of her sherry. For the umpteenth time she glanced at Belinda and her mysterious companion. Belinda looked superb in her golden dress and golden high heels.

The famous Ruthledge diamond dazzled so much at Belinda's neck that it seemed to belong there. But Mrs. DeWitte knew better. She put down her glass and addressed Mrs. Rehnquist:  
>"Cynthia will be delighted that Belinda finally seems to have grown out her bad habits. Last time I saw her she was wearing an <em>orange<em> and _green_ poncho, and she was in the company of a _hippie_!"  
>Mrs. Rehnquist, who was used to shouting at her deaf husband, answered audibly through the entire ballroom: "At least she seems to have found a suitable young companion now."<p>

Mr. Rehnquist, sitting opposite, was glad that for once he didn't need to pretend listening or even understanding. The young man at Belinda's side aroused fond memories: Not unlike himself at the same age he was tall and slim, had brown eyes and brown hair, an earnest face and impeccable manners.

Strangely enough it looked as if the young man had been growing very recently. One would have thought that he was in his late twenties already, and at that age people didn't usually grow any more, did they? But his trousers were definitely a little too short, weren't they?  
>"Nobody seems to know him. Where is he from?" Mrs. DeWitte wondered.<br>"I don't know either – but the two _will_ make a beautiful couple!" Mrs. Rehnquist exclaimed with her stentorian voice.

Hardly noticeably, the young man in question winced at those words.

Three days before:  
>Chief Ironside was in a bad mood. That wasn't unusual but this time, Ed knew the reason behind the Chief's grumpiness: Eve was away with her parents, in Paris or St Tropez or Venice. Eve was so to speak Ironside's antidepressant, his stimulant and his muse in personal union, and now he was suffering of withdrawal. They all were.<br>And then, there was this impossible assignment: To guard the Ruthledge diamond at the festivity of Belinda Ruthledge's 25th birthday. Ironside hadn't been able to say no since Cynthia Ruthledge had been his mother's godmother. And anyway, you didn't say no to Mrs. Ruthledge, not even if your name was Robert T. Ironside.  
>But being Chief Robert T. Ironside, you had the possibility to delegate unpleasant obligations to your subordinates. And that's exactly what the Chief did: He put his Sergeant in charge of it.<br>"The insurance policy notes that the diamond is worth $370,000. But in reality it's probably a lot more," he reminded Ed.  
>The Sergeant wasn't pleased at all. He knew that he would feel awfully out of place – not to mention that Saturday was supposed to be his first free evening in weeks.<br>"Oh, come on, all you have to do is to take a beautiful young lady out. Isn't that what you would have done anyway if you'd had the evening off?" the Chief chastised him.  
>Ed thought that it was probably going to be the other way round: The young lady taking him in...<br>"But the Ruthledges...," he whined, "...will my best black suit be adequate?"  
>"Of course not. Go rent a tuxedo somewhere if you can't afford to buy one."<br>Giving up, Ed took the Chief's advice. He had to admit that the tuxedo looked indeed very elegant. The only problem was that the trousers were too short for his long legs.  
>But they would have to do as there were none in exactly his size. People would in general be looking up to his 6 feet 2 and not down to his shoes, where they could have seen an inch of definitely not-so-elegant socks. At least he hoped so.<p>

On Friday, Ed met Belinda Ruthledge, Mrs. Ruthledge's granddaughter. She was indeed a beautiful young woman: Shapely, sexy, with a perfectly oval face, long blond hair and big blue eyes. But Ed, who always appreciated a beautiful girl, didn't feel at ease around her. It wasn't just because she was a Ruthledge. Eve Whitfield was a member of a wealthy family too. But there was something about Belinda which Ed couldn't place right away: Was it boredom or weariness that he saw in her eyes?  
>There was no time for speculations right now. She showed him the rooms of the mansion where the festivity would take place. He should be prepared for a possible burglary, so he had to know the place.<br>"To be inconspicuous you will play my boyfriend," Belinda ordered.  
>Ed had been expecting that, but he still didn't like it. It wasn't just that he liked to choose his girls himself. It was that uneasy feeling, like a smell of trouble...<p>

Back at the office, he said so to the Chief: "Sir, I'm worried. Something's just not right. Can't you go there yourself, or at least send Mark with me?"  
>"That's flaming nonsense. You won't tell me that a Detective Sergeant needs help to guard a flaming <em>necklace<em>? And even less _my_ Sergeant? – Anyway, you're there only because a nice lady of 92 years is afraid of ghosts."

Saturday again  
>And that's how Sergeant Ed Brown happened to stand in a rented tuxedo with trousers too short for him next to a beautiful woman in a ballroom, wishing he was a thousand miles away.<br>Actually he had no reason to complain. Belinda was being very nice towards him. Repeatedly, her eyes rested on his face longer than necessary. When nobody seemed to be watching (as if anybody would stop staring at them...), her arm brushed lightly over his, or her hip touched his, or her hand rested on his back for a second. Ed tried hard to avoid any direct contact, but to no avail. Then she stunned him, whispering: "I've always dreamed of a man like you."  
>Ed knew that he probably should have been flattered. But his uneasy feeling was growing by the minute, and the smell of trouble was getting insupportable.<p>

And that's when the lights went out.

_Author's note 2:_

_Thanks to my wonderful beta-reader lemonpig73! Thanks to bluesybelge, who found her for me! Thanks to all you kind reviewers! Behind the huge walls of snow around our house I can hardly imagine that there are so many nice people out there...  
><em>


	2. Chapter 2

Ed reacted instantly. He gently, but irresistibly and very quickly pulled Belinda away from where they had been standing, in a direction where he remembered some open space. Nevertheless he stepped on somebody's toes – toes that definitely hadn't been there seconds earlier. After the first shock, Belinda started to scream. Through all the uproar around them Ed tried to comfort her: "Belinda, calm down, it's me, Sergeant Brown, I'm here to protect you. Nothing will happen to you!" The result of his efforts was that she turned towards him and started to kick and scratch him. It took all his strength to restrain her without hurting or further upsetting her. Then the lights came back on as abruptly as they had gone out.  
>Belinda looked confused, to say the least.<br>Ed's first glance went to her décolleté – the diamond was still there. Then he gently guided the distressed girl towards the kitchen. She shouldn't face her grandmother's censorious guests right now.  
>"Would you like a cup of coffee?" he asked her. She shook her head and helped herself to a double bourbon. After finishing that one in a few sips she poured another one. In the meantime Ed pressed his handkerchief onto the deepest of his scratches, trying to protect his rented dinner jacket from getting soiled. He was already too late for the shirt, though.<br>It was only now that Belinda noticed the blood on his neck. "Good heavens, did I do that?"  
>"Don't worry, it's nothing. You were very upset, of course."<br>"I am terribly sorry about that!" she exclaimed and filled a second glass with a good measure out of the bottle in her right hand.  
>Ed thanked her but didn't drink. Ironside would knock the stuffing out of him if anything should happen and he had been drinking on duty.<p>

From the door to the garden, the old gardener and man-servant glanced into the kitchen. Ed held him back:  
>"Do you know what happened? Was it a short-circuit fault?"<br>"No, I don't know. The main fuse was removed. I just had to put it back to get the lights turned on."  
>Now the other door was opening, the one to the big hall, where most of the guests were sitting or standing around. Their discussions were a lot louder and more agitated than before the interruption. Cynthia's confidante entered, glad to find Belinda unharmed.<br>"Please my dear, come to see your grandmother at once. She's very worried because she couldn't find you anywhere!"  
>Obediently Belinda headed towards her grandmother's seat. Ed had no choice but to go with her – she was his responsibility. But he was mortified because of those scratches. The bleeding had already stopped, but he had no possibility to hide them. Sighing he followed Belinda.<br>Cynthia Ruthledge was obviously relieved to see her granddaughter – and the diamond – safe and sound. But no twinkle in her little eyes, no motion in her wrinkled face betrayed her feelings towards Sergeant Brown. However Ed felt in his back the stinging looks of Mrs. DeWitte and Mrs. Rehnquist and all the other appalled guests, and he could read their minds: That he had taken advantage of the darkness to lay his hands on a young woman, and that fortunately she had been able to defend herself...  
>It was horrible.<br>Of course nobody said a single word.  
>Belinda felt his embarrassment. "I'll go get your drink," she murmured and headed towards the kitchen.<br>Never forgetting his job, Ed intended to follow her. But Mrs. Ruthledge kept him back. In a low, but somehow intensive voice she said: "Be careful, Sergeant!"  
>Because he couldn't read her face, Ed didn't know what to make of her words. Did she threaten him to leave her granddaughter alone? Did she want to remind him what his position was?<br>Before he could come to a conclusion, Belinda was back with their glasses.  
>"That's very kind of you, but I'm not allowed to drink while on duty." More than ever Ed had to keep a clear head.<p>

Obviously trying to put the pitiable Sergeant out of his misery, Belinda took his hand:  
>"Let's go out in the garden to get some fresh air!"<br>Ed was very thankful for that proposition.  
>The cool night air helped him cool down indeed.<p>

Out of the blue he was attacked. Somebody jumped onto his back, someone else hit him in the stomach. Ed knew how to handle himself, but with two adversaries he had his hands full. Soon he was rolling around with one of them in a flower bed – it felt like roses – with the other one kicking against his shinbones in an attempt to stop him. Belinda was screaming again.  
>Between her cries he heard another sound: The squeaking of a wheelchair! He knew that sound exactly. Ironside had reminded Mark repeatedly to grease his wheels, but like Ed himself, Mark had always been busy with other tasks.<br>Then there was Belinda's voice: "Jimmy, there's somebody coming – take it and run, there will be no third chance!"  
>At the same instant, a strong flashlight went on. Out of the flower bed Ed could see a gun pointed at Belinda and the man whom she had called Jimmy... and in her hand, outstretched towards Jimmy, like a freeze-frame in a film, she was holding - the Ruthledge diamond!<br>Instantly, Ed was on his feet. With one quick movement he took the necklace out of Belinda's hand and turned her arm around. "Thank you, Mark!" he gasped.  
>Somebody pushed a button and the whole garden was illuminated. Bringing his still squeaking wheelchair to a stop, Chief Ironside looked reproachfully at his tattered Sergeant. The tuxedo was in shreds. "Didn't I send you here to protect a young lady and her jewelry at a festivity? This doesn't really look like you did, does it?"<br>For a moment, Ed was speechless. Then he figured out that the Chief was putting him on - again. Poker-faced he answered:  
>"At one point I had to decide whether to protect the diamond or the lady. I chose the diamond. Less screaming and scratching."<br>The intruder in the flower bed got up and started to back out. "Let the two of them go!" ordered the Chief. "Nothing has been stolen, has there?" Mark lowered his gun and immediately both intruders took their heels.  
>Ed let go of Belinda's arm, but not of the diamond. Ironside asked her:<br>"By the way – what were those three chances?"  
>Belinda had given up. Dejected she explained: "The first was the power outage. Sgt. Brown pulled me away from the spot where the burglary was planned to take place in the dark, so that Jimmy couldn't take the necklace. The second was the one in the garden and the third would have been the soporific in Sgt. Brown's drink. When he was more or less drugged out I should have invited him upstairs. But he refused the drink."<br>"Belinda – you're the heiress of the Ruthledge fortune and therefore of the necklace too, aren't you? Why did you go through the trouble of trying to have it stolen?"  
>On the veranda of the Ruthledge mansion, Cynthia Ruthledge appeared.<br>"Because I still haven't changed my will: The one that dedicates half of my fortune to the police widows fund and the other half to the town's animal shelter. And it will stay that way until I'm convinced that my granddaughter earns it. Today she didn't convince me."

For once, Ironside was at a loss for words. "This must be a terrible shock for you, Cynthia!" he said, because he couldn't think of anything sensible.  
>"My dear Robert, I know my granddaughter perfectly well. I wanted to put her loyalty to the test. But I couldn't risk the Ruthledge diamond, could I? So I asked you for help, and you sent your highly capable Sergeant. I am very grateful. And I'm sure that my insurance company will gladly take care of the bill for Sgt. Brown's rented suit!" -<p>

Back in the office, Ironside patted Ed on his back hard enough to make the young man flinch: "Okay, Sergeant, you were right from the beginning with your hunch that something was wrong with Belinda Ruthledge, and I'm glad that I believed you – which I actually did, even if you didn't believe I would. Explain to us: What observations and what logical deductions was that hunch based on?"  
>Ed squirmed. "Er, well - yes. Observations. Deductions. Well, actually I suppose I just didn't like her perfume!"<p>

_Author's final note:  
>This little comedy is dedicated to Don Galloway, the fine actor who played Ed Brown.<br>Perhaps it's just me, but I have the impression that he might have been a fine person too – and quick-witty and humorous. Perhaps he would have liked playing this episode: Over-acting just a little, the way he played "Pinkerton" in "Grizzly Adams"._

_Promise: In my next story there will be more "Ironside"!_


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